


Parchment

by pinkwinwin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin
Summary: Doyoung leaves on a Tuesday morning, when the world is covered in a blanket of fog.





	Parchment

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [jdd_vol1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/jdd_vol1) collection. 



Doyoung leaves on a Tuesday morning, when the world is covered in a blanket of fog.

He leaves when sleep is still wrapped around Jaehyun’s limbs like an embrace, before the first sigh of another morning undone. He didn’t sleep.

(He doesn’t have to.)

When Jaehyun wakes, it’s to the cold bitterness that something is terribly wrong. Where his hands search for Doyoung’s warmth, instead his fingertips find the scratchy parchment of Doyoung’s favorite stationary.

Jaehyun tries to reassemble his heart on a Tuesday morning, when the world is covered in a blanket of fog.

__________________________________________

_1._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_Please don’t look for me. Your time is better off elsewhere._

_Forever yours,_

_Doyoung_

__________________________________________

Jaehyun isn’t sure exactly what he does after that, but he knows it’s messy. There’s screaming and things torn off walls, of phones endlessly dialed and nails dug into his scalp. Eventually, he falls asleep in a pile of strewn clothing and furniture ripped from their respective places.

He wakes in a world that feels off, tilted five degrees to the left. He takes in the room before him, the storm of his feelings ripping what was once a home for the two of them into something foreign. Jaehyun sighs, and his lungs feel lead-heavy. His fingers have a mind of their own, and soon he’s picking up the pieces of the life that Doyoung left behind. Furniture is pushed back, clothes are hung up or washed, even broken glass from a thrown picture frame is swept up and tossed away.

It doesn’t stop the raw ache wearing away at the inner lining of his heart, it just keeps it from being at the forefront of his mind. That is, until his hand brushes up against a rough envelope peeking out between two books on the coffee table. With trembling hands, he opens the letter and lets the words rolls over his skin like a wave.

__________________________________________

_2._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_By the time you find this, the worst of it will be over. I know how poorly you tend to react to distressing news. I’ve asked Johnny to check up on you in a few days, please be kind enough to yourself to let him in._

_My essentials are already packed and are going with me, I’ll send my sister in a few weeks to claim the rest of my things. She doesn’t know anything about my whereabouts either, at least not at the time of me writing this. It’s pointless to ask her, it’ll only cause stress for both of you._

_Someday you’ll understand why I left. I can only hope that comes soon, so you can stop this pain and move on with your life._

_I love you, I know I don’t deserve to say that anymore. But I love you._

__________________________________________

Jaehyun’s heart leaps into his throat, the familiar tone bleeding like ink and staining his hands. He has to slide his eyes shut and take a shuddering breath to collect himself. He thinks about Doyoung hunched over and carving words into the paper, in the moments in between the inky black of night and dawn. He wonders if he cried, if the ache of his impending departure weighed heavy on his shoulders as his pen dragged across the surface.

He wonders if he felt anything at all.

__________________________________________

_13._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_Please don’t take too much time off work, you have to return to your regular life sooner rather than later._

__________________________________________

Jaehyun finds himself laughing, cold and empty in his kitchen when he finds the note between his favorite coffee mugs. The sensation of his feet on the cold hardwood floor and his fingertips brushing against the rough surface of the paper is the only thing tethering him to this world.

He calls in sick, uses all his vacation days and then some. It still isn’t enough.

__________________________________________

_21._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_I know you aren’t taking care of yourself, you’re probably knee-deep in takeout containers and cheap beer bottles by now. Let Taeyong in, he has meals pre-cooked for you._

_Let me help you, even if I have no right to anymore._

__________________________________________

Jaehyun eventually goes back to work.

__________________________________________

_37._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_If you've found this letter, you've stumbled upon some of our old memories. Don't just sit on the floor and wallow, find something more productive._

_The box is dusty, anyway._

__________________________________________

It's true, the box _is_ horribly dusty. It's cardboard edges are worn and the normally rich forrest green gave way to the dull brown below it long ago. Jaehyun's hands trail one of the outside edges before pulling back to rub the dust between his fingertips. He returns his digits to the box and travels up until he's pushing off the lid with one hand. Jaehyun breathes in deep, as if the laughter and whispered secrets from these memories could leak into his lungs if he tried hard enough.

There are pictures, hundreds of them probably. Seven years of a life together tends to pile up the memories in a way that almost sneaks up on you. Jaehyun lets out a shaky breath as his fingers brush against the slightly tacky ink of the photo on top of the pile. The two of them, in an embrace turned towards the camera. The inky black of Doyoung's suit and his blindingly bright smile is too much for the photo, the medium not being enough to capture the pure emotion of that night.

(Nothing would be enough to capture that man, Jaehyun thinks to himself.)

The dial tone echoes off the confines of his mind as the phone is pressed to the shell of Jaehyun's ear. When he hits voicemail his fingers move automatically, ending the call and trying again. Eventually his eyes don't even trail to the screen, his gaze instead focused on the box nestled between his feet.

The parchment feels like a thousand needles piercing the pads of his fingertips as he holds the letter. Nobody answers the phone.

__________________________________________

_46._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_Eventually, there will come a time where not a single cell of you has come in contact with me. Wait for that day, it’ll make the ache seem duller. In writing you these letters, I feel like I’m leaving a part of me here with you. Perhaps that is a comfort, I hope it’s not a burden._

_Someday soon you will understand._

_P.S. - Cut your hair, I know you’re putting it off._

__________________________________________

The reflection staring back at Jaehyun feels worn, the eyes of someone with too much weighing on his shoulders cuts into his subconscious and reminds him that there is a reason _why_ , even if he doesn’t know what it is yet. He was always the more sentimental of the two, to balance out Doyoung’s real and sometimes bitter perception of the world. If Doyoung was someone who looked at the world with a critical eye, Jaehyun was the one that came along and smoothed out all the harsh edges.

Jaehyun can’t help but feel like Doyoung did leave a part of himself here, because his outlook on life has turned from one of optimism to one of ornate bitterness. There is a heaviness that sits on his chest and reminds him that when he returns home it will be to an empty apartment, of a place with too much space and too little comfort. He’s reminded of this as he sits in his car, rain pelting against the glass and mingling with the streetlight to create a glow of orange and yellow that feels more oppressive than warm.

He has been too many places, driving past the coffee shop where they had their first real date. Jaehyun can still picture Doyoung’s slender hands wrapping around the mug, tilting his face up towards the window to watch the rain roll down the glass of the window. Ever the romantic, Jaehyun watched the gray hue of the cold November rain settle over Doyoung’s features and decided he would do anything to ensure he only knew contentment. His hands turned knuckle-white when he drove the same streets he and Doyoung once took to meet his sister for the first time. Jaehyun can almost hear the way Doyoung’s laughter rang out in the car like silver, assuring him that his sister would love him.

Even now, as he looks out to the murky mixture of rain and streetlights in front of him as he’s parked, he wonders if Doyoung is right. Jaehyun thinks about how someday all the cells in his body will be replaced and he will have fingers that have never touched his skin, of arms that have never held him. He thinks of his heartbeat, and how there will come a time when the pounding of that organ and the rush of blood flushing his skin will not do so because of the man with round eyes and a tongue sharp as a blade.

Jaehyun stares back at his reflection in the rearview mirror, his tawny hair hanging low on his forehead. He thinks of the moments when Doyoung would laugh, mouth stretched wide as he pushed the hair out of Jaehyun’s face and makes a comment about it’s length.

He cuts his hair the next day.

__________________________________________

_53._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_As I’m writing this, you’re getting ready to go out with me. I can see you adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look so sharp, I feel like you’re too good for me sometimes._

_I’m sorry I carried this with me for so long._

_Once I’m gone, please don’t shut yourself in. Go out, see people. Live your life as if I was never there. You deserve that happiness, that sense of normality._

__________________________________________

Over time, Jaehyun returns to some form of normal. He calls it his New Normal, one with the nagging feeling of Doyoung’s hand wrapped around his heart like a cage. He forces himself to listen to Johnny, to go out and visit with friends. It’s nice, for a while at least. After a few drinks and the company of trusted friends, Jaehyun even finds himself laughing and engaging in conversation.

In the moment after a bout of laughter, when the world feels like it’s taking a breath and waiting, a familiar passage creeps into his mind and makes a home there.

__________________________________________

_67._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_Do you think of me in the spaces in between? (I hope you do, I hope you do.)_

____________________________________________

It’s true, there are so many ‘in betweens’ where Jaehyun thinks of Doyoung’s laugh, of the way he would wrap his hand around the back of Jaehyun’s neck, of his gentle sighs into sheets. There are so many little moments that they pile up, threatening to crush Jaehyun under their weight. He lays in bed most nights thinking of these moments, but at least sleep comes a little easier. He no longer sleeps with the most recent letter he found on the pillow next to him. Instead it’s tucked in a drawer, looked at only when Jaehyun needs it.

It becomes a little easier, in it’s own way.

__________________________________________

_78._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_Do you know how beautiful you look as you sleep? Your hair against the white pillowcase, your lips parted… you look like nothing could bother you. It’s a sense of calm I wish I had._

_I know you deserve the truth, so here it is. You have always been so bright, like you held sunshine in your heart. You always hated when I said things like that, but it’s true. I will always be a black canvas, soaking in your warmth but offering only the constant darkness that resides in my heart._

_Jaehyun, I have nothing to give you. A person like you deserves significance, and all I do is take. I could live a hundred years and never give back to you a fraction of the love you radiate in a single moment. I am so tired of taking, of soaking in your light and offering nothing in return. Sometimes I feel like an abyss, I can’t drag you down with me._

_I wish I could be there to tell you how much I love you. It is beyond words, I feel it in my bones, in the breaths I take. I wish I could tell you this face to face, but maybe a man’s courage can still be measured by words on a page._

_I love you, endlessly._

_Forever yours,_

_Doyoung_

____________________________________________

There was always something in Jaehyun that told him it would be bad, but all he hears in his head is _oh, this hurts._ He has no hands to grip, to face to caress and whisper words of comfort and reassurance. He feels as much of an abyss as Doyoung had scrawled on the page, and for the first time something comes to him.

He understands.

All of the subtle looks towards the floor, the hesitant embraces, the features creased in worry as he slept-- there were so many signs that Jaehyun had either missed or tossed away. He was as absent in their relationship as Doyoung was now, creating an emptiness where there should have been understanding.

He doesn’t remember picking up the phone, but his face is soon pressed to the sheets and his phone pressed to his ear. He listens to the voicemail over and over, something mundane about missing his last call, but he finds himself over analyzing it. Every crescendo of his tired voice, every pause as if searching for his words-- it’s all Doyoung. It’s all him, and Jaehyun can’t believe he missed it.

The next call is to anyone he thinks will listen. He calls Doyoung’s sister, Johnny, even Taeyong, desperate for any sense of where he might be. Jaehyun knows it’s pointless, nobody can tell him where Doyoung is. It’s nothing new, but this time hurts in a way he’s never felt before. Like a knife twisting the opposite direction in the center of his chest.

__________________________________________

_89._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_This letter wasn’t easy to find, was it? It was intentional, a selfish way of me trying to see if you still cared. I don’t have the right to toy with you like this I just… wanted an answer, I suppose._

_Do you remember the place where you told me you loved me? The lakehouse up North. You had wind in your hair and sand against the skin of your cheek, but I remember thinking you had never looked better. We drank with our feet dangling off the dock, staring up at the moon. You were still breathless from chasing me across the water’s edge._

_I think about it all the time, maybe I need to visit it again._

____________________________________________

The paper shakes in his hands, the words blurring away in a fit of tears. It is anger and shock and utter relief rolled into one, twisting his insides and threatening to strangle him. Jaehyun finds it in a fury, ripping apart the apartment in a final effort to answer the question that had been plaguing him for almost a year. He had to know if there was a clue, if there was some possibility of finding him again.

The letter is pulled taut and then crumbled, shoved in the pocket of his jeans with a trembling hand.

Jaehyun climbs into his car on a Tuesday evening, when the world is covered in a blanket of fog.

____________________________________________

It doesn’t feel real, but perhaps none of it ever had.

The steering wheel beneath Jaehyun’s hands feels imaginary, the road before him a mirage beckoning him to something that might not even exist anymore. The feeling doesn’t shake when the city melts away and turns to forest, trees looming over Jaehyun’s car like an omnipresent being. He still knows his way there like it was an instinct, even after all these years.

The gravel beneath his feet does little to ground him, crunching quietly beneath him as he makes his way to the house. It is perfect in its navy paint with white trim, welcoming Jaehyun like some great white hope. He can feel the familiarity as he slides the hidden key from its spot under the mat, but a worn, faded envelope taped to the door stops him short.

__________________________________________

_99._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_I could never forget our place._

____________________________________________

His hands shake so violently it takes him two minutes to unlock the door. His view of the room is very much like he left it years ago, the dark shadows doing little to stop him from entering the familiar space. If he concentrates hard enough, Jaehyun can almost hear the familiar laughter of Doyoung after he chased him into the dining room long ago. His feet take him there before he can think, as if he was meant to be there.

The knots in his stomach unfurl when his hands meet the sensation of a rough parchment envelope on the dining room table.

He feels as if he can finally breathe properly when his feet pound the floor, racing from room to room to find what he’s been looking for all this time.

His heart feels stitched together when a familiar pair of arms and round eyes welcome him back to the place where he was always meant to be. In the midst of tears and lips pressed against each other, a letter flutters to the floor.

__________________________________________

_100._

_Dear Jaehyun,_

_I want to come home._

____________________________________________


End file.
